Damaged
by Laura178
Summary: Leah's story. In love with a man who can't love her back, angry and bitter. A story of self-hated and self-discovery. Can she become whole and love again? Rated M for a reason- very different from anything else on here.
1. Broken

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.**

**Let me know if you want to hear more. This chapter was sort of a set-up chapter, so the rest will be more exciting. Definitely rated M- possibly offensive material not censored. Review, please. **

CHAPTER ONE

BROKEN

I held the cheaply rolled joint between my thumb and pointer finger, just watching it burn. I inhaled deeply, breathing in the weed. It was good stuff, the green kind. The kind that will make you forget.

"Shit, we're gonna be late," El said in her distinctively raspy voice. Since I got held back last year and have to repeat senior year, she's my best friend, I guess. I don't think I have any real friends. She might be the exception though; I got high for the first time with El.

We were at my house, and she was sleeping over. I don't really remember why I let her; usually I prefer to be alone. Since my Dad died and my Mom checked out of the family, I spent most of my time in bed, hating the world. Anyway, for whatever reason she was over. I remember her reaching into her bag and pulling out a crinkled up piece of newspaper. She unfolded it carefully, revealing the green-brown plant inside. It looked like an herb, but smelled a lot stronger. She took out her homemade bong- it was a plastic water bottle- and filled it with some water. Asked me if I wanted to try it. I thought why the hell not, what else am I gonna do? So she showed me how.

I held one finger to the hole in the back of the bong. Put my mouth over the other punctured hole. The sweet smelling crushed grass went in a hole at the top of the bottle. She used her short, stubby, pink nails to flick the blue and orange lighter. I inhaled as long as I could; it burned the back of my throat, made my eyes water. After I couldn't stand it anymore, I handed the bottle back to her. El inhaled the rest while I coughed like the prude that I was. For whatever reason, I was scared of getting caught. I even made her go in the closet to smoke- the last thing I needed was my Mom all over me. But then… the high kicked in. I didn't worry anymore after that. Everything faded, and I could just…be. I was finally able to think clearly, sleep deeply, and most of all, forget.

Forget _him_. Sam. The guy who broke my fucking heart. After that first time smoking in my bedroom at three a.m., my life finally started to get better.

"Leah!" El sounded annoyed. "Can you hear me or what? We can't be late again, or Mr. Goering is gonna flip a shit!"

I blinked a few times, coming back to the present. Thank god she cared about being on time, or I probably wouldn't graduate this year…again.

Class was boring, as usual. It was chemistry. Or maybe math. There were a lot of numbers. I couldn't care though, not about anything. I was mellow and loving it. Most of my teachers didn't bother me anyways- probably because my eyes were always red, like I hadn't slept. Some people knew I was high in most classes, but I didn't care. I didn't care about anything.

Since the first time almost a month ago, I hadn't had to phase at all. I dropped my shifts, sure, and _he_ was pissed. But they just assumed Leah was being a pain in the ass, per usual. So they didn't know anything was different. The guys would probably tell me I was an idiot. Like I need them to tell me- I already know that I've thrown my life away. It was over a long time ago. Fuck being a "protector" of La Push. Whatever that means. Protector is code for fucked. You're forced into it whether you like it or not. Hey, congratulations, you're a friggin' mythological monster. Now hand over your life and your free will.

Ugh, whatever. Thinking about my totally spectacular life made me need some pot, really bad. El had promised to introduce me to her friend and supplier, Adam, later today. That would just have to get me through the next few class periods.

"Yo, Leah, why so bitchy today?" came Seth's usual greeting. I ignored him; that was my usual greeting. Brothers are such a pain in my ass.

I sat on the grass outside the brown, dilapidated school and proceeded to shovel three sandwiches into my mouth. That was the only plus of being a werewolf- you can eat whatever you want and still look good. But even all the food didn't settle the emptiness in the pit of my stomach- after only three weeks I had really developed a taste for weed. El called in unnatural. I thought of it more like a duck taking to water- very, very natural.

I looked up from my brooding- something I did only rarely. I avoided eye contact as a rule. Especially with other "pack members". They knew me better than I cared to know my self. How pathetic is that?

Paul was staring at me. More like scrutinizing me. He wasn't tall, maybe only a couple of inches taller than my five-foot eight. Even for a werewolf, he was on the wiry side. Sure, he had muscles, but not a lot compared to some of the others. He always kept his black hair closely shaved to his head. Like some kind of goddamn jarhead. Paul's skin was so dark he looked almost black. It was kind of cool in the way bearded women are cool. He was unusual, I had to give him that. But still an asshole.

"What?" I snapped at him, getting irritated now. I had the weirdest feeling that he was x-raying me- red eyes with dark circles below them, the way my legs jiggled and twitched, and the way I breathed so slowly.

His black eyes just kept staring at me. I hated feeling like any of them pitied me. Oh, poor Leah, he left her. That's right, he fucking left. So what? Shit happens all the time.

I was really getting annoyed now- and anxious. I needed something soon, school be damned. I flipped him one of my fingers with chipped black polish on it- the middle one to be exact, and ran towards my car.

I sat in the cheap black sedan and reached into the glove box. I had some old stuff in here, but it would do. I rolled it up with some spare paper and pulled on the blunt greedily. When I exhaled the swirling clouds of smoke, I felt the familiar sense of release. I still had to go over to _his_ house tonight- and his fucking wife would be there, of course- but now it seemed manageable. Not such a big deal.

I have no idea how long I sat there with the windows rolled up, just getting stoned from the air that was swirling around the car. The smoke was so pretty- the way it furled in and around itself. If I wasn't a werewolf, I think I would want to be smoke. I started to laugh. Who the hell ever heard of wanting to be smoke? I kept giggling- what would people think? Then I decided I didn't give a shit. Fuck them, _I _wanted to be smoke.

"Mar-ij-a-wanna." I rolled the word around my mouth, slurring the syllables and pronouncing it phonetically. I laughed again- that word was so messed up. Why not pronounce the J? I decided to pronounce the J. So I repeated it, over and over again, laughing a little less each time.

Eventually I rolled down the windows, breathing in some clean air. If I had to go over there later, Sam would be able to smell it on me right away. He was actually one of the few people around here that wasn't a total dumbass.

Brown-skinned kids started pouring out of the school, and I waited for the short one with blonde streaks to get in my car.

"Hey Leah," El said. "Ditched again? You're never gonna graduate."

I snorted and rolled my eyes. It's not like I was headed to college. Being a werewolf didn't exactly require some type of degree.

"So are you going to introduce me to Adam, or am I just gonna have to keep freeloading off of your stash?"

El glared at me, not amused. "Let's go, then. I'll show you the way."

It was quiet the rest of the ride, El pointed where I needed to turn. She could be annoying, but it was simple to shut her up. Most people are easy to fuck around with. But unlike most people, she forgot about it almost right away. No doubt within ten minutes she'd be jabbering on, giving me a migraine the size of Texas.

"This is it?" I asked, kicking open the cheap car door. It always stuck. I looked the house up and down. The top-level windows were boarded up, the porch steps sagging, the ugly yellow paint peeling away from the wood. It was such a goddamn cliché- the grungy looking home of the town druggie.

El and I cautiously walked up the wretched looking front steps and she banged one, two, three times with the rusty knocker. The guy who opened up must have been Adam. He was tall and, like everyone in La Push, dark. His hair was shoulder length and untamed, his muscles exposed by a white cotton wife-beater. Basically, your average, everyday drug dealer.

"El." His voice was rough and low; I guessed that the back of his throat was raw and inflamed from smoking often.

"Adam." El replied. What was up with the monotone greetings? "This is my friend, Leah."

"Hey," I said, lamely. I hated talking to people.

Adam didn't reply, just turned around and reached for something inside the door. When he emerged, he was holding two brown paper bags. It was all so predictable I wanted to puke. When did I become the girl you love to hate in a bad soap opera?

"Here," he said, handing one to El. She smoothly slipped him some green, crumpled paper.

Adam looked me up and down, taking in the toned physique that came with morphing into a supernatural beast. From the way his brown eyes took their time about it, not trying to be inconspicuous, I gathered that he also appreciated the way I dressed; for warm weather. A body temperature of a hundred and nine degrees tends to make it feel like the middle of July in Africa pretty quick.

"Here," he told me, shoving the sack roughly into my hands. "No charge…'cuz you're cute." He winked one red, puffy eye in my direction. Gag.

I tried to smile appreciatively as we turned and walked back to my crappy ride. The metal door slammed against the frame, and then there was silence behind us.

El's short, flip-flop adorned legs climbed into the car, followed by my long, muscular ones.

I revved the engine and she simultaneously turned to me, arching one plucked eyebrow. "So? What do you think?"

I grinned back at her, unexplainably chipper. Or I should say, less depressed than usual. "I think that I like Adam," I told her, looking into the brown bag.

Yeah, I liked Adam a lot.

All too soon, El was gone and I was standing inside a small, painfully cheery kitchen. A person could suffocate with all the bodies in here. The guys were all huge and hot- literally, warm- and it made me claustrophobic. I kept my sore eyes on the linoleum. I didn't want to look around _their_ home more than necessary. It should be m—

_Get a grip,_ I told myself. I hated when my head did that- exactly what I didn't want it to.

"Okay, guys," Sam called in a booming voice. I snorted loudly.

"And girl," he corrected, sounding aggravated already. Perfect. Aggravated and pissed was the way I liked to keep them. That way, it was so much easier to pretend to hate Sam.

"When Paul was on duty last night," he began. Cue the meaningful glare to lazy-ass Leah. After said conspicuous glare was completed, he continued. "He picked up a trail. It was fresh, but disappeared around the water. Just one, and he'll probably come back. So we are meeting here tonight, outside, phased and ready to go. Midnight. Any questions?"

No one even looked up. We had had about a dozen of these false alarms in the past six months.

"Alright! Let's get some leeches!" Seth crowed. He and Colin were the only ones who found this exciting anymore. It was pretty much them and serious-and-solemn-as-ever-Sam on the enthusiasm front. I thought that this was all a waste of time. I sighed melodramatically, to prove my point.

I looked up then, before spinning to leave. That was a mistake. Sam had glanced my way when I sighed. Usually he avoided looking at me. I knew that he felt guilty. He saw me as a bitter old harpy. They all thought I was going to die alone. Fuck them, I wouldn't be alone; I was going to take my bong with me.

But this glance was different. If Sam looked at me at all anymore, it was with pity. In this second, though, his eyes were different. Instead of pinched with regret, they were wide and clear. The dark brown and gold that I had long ago memorized seemed to trap me and I couldn't look away. Before all of this shit, I would stare into them forever. I had believed every promise he ever made me. But then again, so did he.

Before I could crack, I slouched out of _their_ house, Mr. and Mrs. Sam Uley's house, and ran for the forest. I needed a release. I needed to not think.

I had a feeling that Adam was going to become my new best friend.


	2. Confession

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.**

**Disclaimer: Lyrics are from P!nk, "U and Ur Hand"**

CHAPTER TWO

CONFESSION

Thanks to Sam, I was in the woods near his house at midnight, crouched behind a bush, naked. Freezing my ass off. He's a gem.

I stashed my clothes beneath a thorny bush and stood under the moonlight, preparing to shift. I closed my eyes in intense concentration. Even after almost a year, it was hard for me to stay focused. It required a colossal amount of effort to force your body to become a huge wolf. A minute or two later, I opened my eyes again. Looking down, I could see four black paws. Time to go to work.

And I didn't mean killing some bloodsuckers. Tonight, the hard part would be not thinking about my new obsession: weed. I didn't need to hear about it, not from _him. _He doesn't have the right to tell me how to live. Not anymore.

I stalked into view of the small house and waited for the others to show up. I heard a large noise from behind me, the rustling of leaves. Cue the distraction.

_I'm not here for your entertainment,_

_You don't really want to mess with me tonight,_

_Just stop and take a second,_

_I was fine before you walked into my life,_

_Cuz you know it's over,_

_Before it began,_

_Keep your drink; just give me the money,_

_It's just you and your hand tonight,_

_Midnight, I'm drunk, I don't give a fuck…_

I usually hate whiny girl rock songs. But for Pink, I make an exception. That bitch knows how to be: independent, strong, alone. Plus, the guys would hate it. Bonus. If I could just rerun the song over and over in my head, hopefully I wouldn't be able to think about anything else. And hopefully they would try and tune me out.

_Leah,_ I heard Jake, _come on, stop it._

_Yeah, my ears are bleeding. _Paul seemed pissed off. I smiled to myself- watching him try and take me might be fun. I was actually pretty fast.

_No can do, guys,_ I retorted.

Sam called us to order then. By now, we had all shown up. Fur in every color glinted strangely in the moonlight. Black, brown, silver, honey, and even some white clustered together, looking like a vulgar coat for an old woman to wear at Christmas. The kind PETA would throw paint on. I stood away from the rest- I would pass on the pack bonding.

Finally, several decades later, we were moving. The Pink song repeated in my head, and I ran ahead of the rest.

_Leah! _Sam came in loud and clear. Unfortunately. _Go with Paul around east, he'll show you the trail._

_Whatever, El Capitan, _I threw back at him before hurriedly singing along to the goddess of punk herself. Sam always paired Paul and I together. I was too much of a bitch for anyone else to handle. He was, too.

Paul and I fell in together, matching each other step for step as we ran flat-out. I had to admit, the speed was cool. It was a rush. Paul stayed quiet, which was good. By quiet, I mean he kept the annoying self-chatter to a minimum. Aside from a few easily ignored snipes at my attitude, he was a good partner. Unlike the younger few, he had some balls.

As I predicted, nothing much happened. We ran for a while, trying to catch whatever scent he thought had been there. Early in the morning, exhausted and irritated, everyone met up by Sam's house again. No one had even smelled a damn thing. One by one, every person retreated back to wherever they had stashed their clothes to phase. I returned to the bush and pulled out my tank top and shorts. It was too annoying to carry underwear, too.

I closed my eyes in concentration for a second time, allowing my muscles to relax. I felt my limbs contract and collapse in, shrinking. Hair flew inward, to be replaced by mocha skin. My long hair tumbled around my face in waves, and I was suddenly bent on all fours on the grass, probably looking like a total idiot.

I yanked on my clothes, in a hurry to get back to the house. The faster this was over with, the faster I could get out of here. I ran back to Sam's yard, not bothering to knot my messy hair on top of my head as I went. It wasn't like there was anybody to look good for.

Everyone was giving me weird looks as I came back into their midst. I should say, there were more weird looks than usual. I knew that most of them half-pitied, half-feared me. I didn't care, as long as they all respected me.

"Leah?" Embry asked, sounding uncertain.

"What?" I had no idea what was going on.

"Did something happen?"

Oh shit, what did they hear? I thought I did so well, I didn't remember thinking of anything I shouldn't have.

"Um, no, Embry." I scoffed and rolled my eyes. I needed them to just shrug it off.

"Okay, but Leah, are you sure--"

I cut across his voice before he could say anything. "What, Embry? Stop whatever you're doing. I'm not your fucking friend, don't preach to me. Go find your Daddy if you want someone to give a shit."

That did it. Embry closed his mouth stupidly, hurt filling his face. _Pussy,_ I thought. He was so sensitive about the whole Dad thing. I didn't really care, but if it shut him up I would use it. Embry walked slowly away from us. At once, dozens of accusatory eyes turned to me.

"What? Why can't everyone just leave me alone?" I demanded, taking off in the opposite direction that Embry had gone. Sam would yell at me later for that, but I didn't care. Because I knew what Embry had heard tonight.

He hadn't heard about my latest habit, he had heard what I tried to hard not to let them know. Sam knew, of course, and so did Emily. But it wasn't my fault; I couldn't help who I loved. Yeah, loved. Because my stupid fucking self can't get over him. We were supposed to be together forever. Embry heard what he didn't already know- I _still_ love Sam. And he should love me, too.

I know that it eats him up. But he has Emily. And I have nothing, no one. I still care about him. He's aware of this, of course. I try my best not to think of it, but still, he fucking knows.

And yet he goes back home every night to _his_ Emily, my mother-fucking cousin. I mean, how perfect is that? If there is a God, he hates me. Everyday, I have to look at them together. Happy, married, having a baby. Yeah, Emily is pregnant. With his child. Deep down, I feel like it should be mine. A long time ago, we had talked about it. I was going to have his babies, and he was going to marry me. But that was a long time ago.

While I was thinking all of these things, my feet were carrying me over to Adam's house. I needed something, it didn't matter what.

"Hey, baby," he crooned when I showed up, "back already?" Obviously, he wasn't complaining about the fact that I had showed up in my tank top and shorts, looking like I just rolled out of bed.

I tried to think really fast. Not easy to do, given that I had already smoked what was left in my car. It hadn't worked. I couldn't get the same release, the same high. It took more and more to find relief. I needed something better, because marijuana was not cutting it anymore. I couldn't forget.

"Yeah," I purred at him, hoping he wouldn't see through me. I was using him, it was so obvious.

He opened the door and I stepped inside the filthy house. I wouldn't have been surprised if there were rats there.

Adam closed the door with one grimy hand and reached into a sack by the door with the other. It was huge- did he have a friggin' marijuana field out back? I could recognize the smell coming from it a mile away.

"No," I stopped him. "I want something better."

He paused, and his eyebrows knit together. But he wasn't one to object on moral grounds; he was at least five years older, and I was technically still in high school. A wicked grin spread out across his face.

"I'll show you something better," he told me, giving my ass a pat as he walked past me into another room. I didn't even care- if it were any other guy I would have broken his nose. But Adam had something for me, so I would tolerate it. I would do anything to feel better.

An hour later, I was sprinting towards the edge of La Push, my nose still tingling. Whatever it was, it was great. I was free. Uninhibited. It was better than anything I've ever experienced. Weed made me forget, but this made me strong. I could do anything. So I knocked on the door of Sam Uley's house.

"Sam!" I yelled, not caring who I woke. The small place was dark. It only took a few minutes of yelling and rattling the door handle to make a light snap on, though.

The tall, handsome man I loved stumbled out the front door, groggily pulling on a shirt. "What the hell, Leah? It's four in the morning!"

"I don't care! How could you do this to me?" I practically screamed at him.

Emily was sleeping just inside, so he grabbed me roughly by the wrists and dragged me several yards from the house.

"What are you talking about, Leah?" Sam sniffed the air around me. "Are you…_high?_"

"What does it matter to you? You don't get to judge me anymore! I just came over here to tell you to go to hell! You left me. You left me. You left me." I repeated the words like a mantra, flinging them out into the night.

Sam's face puckered in pain. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't have a choice."

"You had a choice! It's simple, her or me. And you chose her! You married my fucking cousin, Sam! You were supposed to marry me!"

Sam just stood in the early morning dew, looking tortured. One big hand was still wrapped around my wrist, but the other hand was extended towards me, palm out. Like he was protecting himself from the sting of my condemnation.

The drug made me brave, and I was finally telling him everything that haunted me at night. I couldn't care that I would regret this in the morning, or that I was going back on every promise I had made myself; I had promised myself that I would never get hurt again. And this was going to hurt, laying everything out here like this.

"You know what, Sam Uley? I hate that I have to see you everyday, so goddamned happy! I can't ever be happy again. Look at me! I'm so fucked up…"

"I'm not that happy," he whispered, so quietly that I almost couldn't hear it. "You know why I left. It's like there's a string, connecting me to Emily. Nothing can break it. I can't lie- you know I wouldn't want to leave her, but I regret hurting you. Do you think I like waking up every morning, knowing what I did to you? You're right Leah," he took in my red-rimmed eyes and shaking hands. "You are fucked up."

Staring into his warm eyes, I felt it all. I felt his pain, his remorse, and his pity. But I could also see something else there. He belonged to Emily, body and soul. But there was still some part of his heart, somewhere, that I had touched. It was mine first, and it would always be mine. That was the best I would ever get- a piece of the man I loved.

I stumbled on my feet. The crash was coming already, and there was something else I needed to say. "I love you."

And then I blacked out.


	3. Shatter

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.**

**A/N: If you like this story, let me know. I'm not really getting a lot of feedback, so I'm wondering if I'm wasting my time on this. If you want more, review!**

CHAPTER THREE

SHATTER

Over the next two weeks, Sam didn't talk about what happened. I didn't talk to him, either. I remembered most of what I had said, and that was enough to twist my stomach. I was so stupid. I had actually thought I would feel better after talking to Sam. All I did was tell him what he didn't want to hear- that I love him.

Thank God it was Saturday. I couldn't deal with school today. Not that I went much this week, but still, it's nice knowing I can stay home and not feel guilty about it. Although, El has been bugging me about school less and less. She started saying that maybe I shouldn't be spending so much time with Adam. What she meant was that maybe I shouldn't be spending so much time getting high. I ignored her- filthy hypocrite. She was the one who got me started in the first place. And I couldn't stop now. It was just too good.

Like most days, I stayed in bed until about one in the afternoon. What was the point in getting up? When I finally did roll out of bed, I grabbed whatever clothes I could find and walked to Adam's. We didn't do much talking- it was mostly just forgetting. Today didn't start out any different than usual.

We spent the first part of the afternoon smoking, and then just relaxing, mellowing out. Whatever we were taking didn't amp us up; it was the kind of feel-good high. Everything slows down around you and you just feel so at peace. Unfortunately, it's also the kind of high that doesn't last. After only a few hours I could feel my brain whir back to life. That was bad. I didn't want to have to think. I had been thinking, been hurting, for too long. The past weeks were some of the…well not the best, but not the most miserable of my life.

"Adam, can I have some more?" I asked him, slurring the words slightly.

He turned his shaggy head and smirked at me. "You know, baby, I've been thinking…what are you gonna do to earn it?"

"What the hell do you mean?" I snapped at him. He usually just gave it to me "'cuz I was cute".

Adam's buzz must have been wearing off, too, because he snapped back. "You know what I mean, bitch. Everyone has to pay."

Oh crap. I didn't have any money. If I had money, why would I be in this shit hole?

"I don't have money. I need it, Adam."

I tried to hide the plea in my voice. It was a wasted attempt- he saw how desperate I was.

"I didn't say you had to pay me with money, doll," he drawled at me. His greedy eyes raked over my body, so that it was only too clear what he meant.

My immediate reaction was to kick his ass from here to Honolulu. But if I did that, then where would I get the drugs? And even _I_ couldn't kill him…

I was coming down from my high a little more each minute. My heartbeats came faster, my palms started to sweat. My body began to tingle; like my brain, it was coming out of its stupor. I needed to get lost, fast, before the nausea set in. I was too far gone now. My body needed it, craved the release.

"Whatever," I croaked out. I was scared shitless, but I tried to stay calm. _It doesn't matter_, I told myself. I held onto those words, desperate to make it true. Through the haze, I could see his grin stretch wide over his white teeth. They were so white that they looked purple. That was strange.

Adam strutted over to where I sat, sprawled on the threadbare carpeting. His wife beater and jeans were meant to look cool, but I found it disgusting. If I had been thinking, I would have closed my eyes.

Forceful hands grabbed my shoulders and pressed me to the floor. He fell lazily on top of me, breathing hard already. His motions were blurred, like a movie on fast forward. I thought that if I could stay under the sea in my head, this might not be so bad.

Adam's fingers moved from my shoulders down my bare arms and back again.

"You're burning up," he muttered, only half aware of what he said.

I ignored him. He would think that it was just a part of the high. The fingers on my arms found their way to the hem of my top, gripping it. The shirt was roughly pulled over my head, and he pressed his already naked torso to mine.

I shivered, uncomfortable against his sticky body. _It doesn't matter_, I repeated in my head.

Adam licked along my stomach, moaning something to himself. I didn't even listen. He ran his hands greedily across my body, tugging my shorts down. The scene was on fast forward again, everything fuzzy. It felt so fast to me. He was sweaty and breathing all over me, and I just lay there. He grappled with my underwear, tugging it roughly down. My legs were glued together- I couldn't move them if I tried. I whimpered slightly. This was a very bad idea. I had changed my mind.

"I don't think so, bitch," he growled at me. Something hard was pressing against my stomach, and I tried to look away. Stubby fingers grabbed my thighs violently, inching them apart. I couldn't think right. Adam's fingernails dug into my skin, and he shifted himself above me.

I started to squirm in earnest now, trying to get away. I was stronger than he was, by a million times, but I couldn't get my body to move. I was stuck, and unluckily the drugs were leaving my brain faster than my body. I knew what was happening, but my muscles refused to act.

He jabbed roughly into me, thrusting and thrashing. All I could see through my bleary eyes was his dark brown skin covering mine. Each push was rough, rocking through my body. I didn't respond. Everything was dead inside of me. I had nothing left.

_It doesn't matter._

With Sam, it had been different. When he held me, I felt safe and loved. This wasn't the same. Sam had filled me with his love, pouring it into me and whispering sweet nothings in my ear. Sam and I had made love, but this was just fucking. Just straight up fucking.

When Adam was done, I clumsily pulled on my clothes, wincing with each movement. Adam's tanned body moved in the corner of the room, and put something in my hand. I spread it carefully on the table, pressed my face close. Put one finger over a nostril, inhaled deeply with the other. And then I didn't care anymore. I looked up, grinning lazily.

_It doesn't matter_, my head sang. It was right. It didn't matter.

I came home sometime the next morning. What happened that afternoon was a haze, and I was glad for it. I didn't want to remember.

"Leah?" My Mom's voice was thick with exhaustion. Since my Dad died, she hadn't been able to sleep. "Where were you?"

She didn't really expect an answer. For the past few months, she had been too lost in herself to notice Seth or me. Most nights I didn't come home, and she didn't say anything. When I had started to smell of pot all the time, she still hadn't said anything. God Bless Prozac. And Seth didn't say anything, either; he was too wrapped up in himself to notice. Thank God for self-absorbed sixteen-year-old boys.

"Sam called." Seth didn't even look up from his dumbass videogame. "He says you have to patrol tonight. And he said that you can't get out of it."

Well crap.

I walked past the video game on my way to my room, not bothering to grab any food from the fridge. If it hadn't been empty, I wouldn't have eaten anything, anyway. Food just didn't taste the same anymore. Before turning to climb the stairs, I kicked the game console. Bright colors flashed across the screen before it went dead.

My brother screamed and cursed behind me, desperately trying to see if his high score saved. I laughed.

I slept through the day, preparing to be up all night. I was grateful it was only going to be Paul- I wasn't up for seeing everyone, having them all in my head.

About seven that evening I forced myself to get out of bed. The last thing I wanted was for Sam himself to come over here. From what Seth had told me, he meant business. Time for another day of being a freaky wolf.

I met Paul outside of my house ten minutes later, already phased. He was just taking off his shirt and tying it to the string wrapped around his ankle.

I scowled at him, or as well as a werewolf could scowl.

"Okay, almost ready," he muttered at me. He walked around the edge of my house, and two minutes later a huge black wolf returned in his place.

We took off silently into the night. That was the nice thing about Paul- there was never any incessant, stupid chatter. He was a temperamental bastard, but a smart temperamental bastard; I had to give him that.

_Thanks,_ I heard. Oops. Time to switch on the trusty old filter that would block every one out.

_Shut up,_ I thought, before quickly starting to play some mind-numbing rock in my head. "Killing in the Name" was perfect for tonight.

If Paul were human, he would probably be glowering at me. As it was, he sent a stream of profanities my way. But Rage Against the Machine drowned them all out nicely.

Seven hours of making a circuit around the boundaries of La Push yielded what, ladies and gentlemen? Drum roll, please… Not a damned thing. I was exhausted- it had been a long time since I'd ever really slept. Usually I was so keyed up that I stayed awake until four or five in the morning.

Suddenly, everything was crashing down on me all at once. My body screamed for relief, but I didn't have anything with me, and now it was punishing me. My mind dredged up everything I didn't want to remember. How screwed up my life was. How scared I was of the future. How Sam had left me, ruined me forever. How Adam had basically raped me. My broad, furry shoulders shook with the emotion. For a wolf, it was a lot of shit to handle.

Everything went quiet. The silence was deafening. No screaming, angry lyrics. Even Paul's thoughts were conspicuously absent, because he was currently standing on four legs about ten feet from me, dark eyes wide.

Shudders continued to rattle the wolf that was also me. When the wolf couldn't take it anymore, she shattered. I was left without any barrier from my pain, no layer of fur and muscle to protect me. Everything was so messed up. I had messed up. Everything was laid out for me to see. I was literally and figuratively naked, shivering on the forest floor.

My eyes fluttered open and closed, everything blurring and then refocusing. Dark green trees. A black animal. Nothing. A man, barefoot and wearing sweat pants. Arms lifting me from the ground. A warm, cotton shirt gingerly pulled over me. Slow movement, like I was made of glass.

The low voice spoke to me, getting louder and then fuzzing out like static on a radio. I could barely hear what they were saying. Another thing that didn't matter. I was almost gone, anyway.

"You are so fucked up, Leah."

"I know," I wasn't sure who I was talking to, the voice or myself? "Oh God, I know."

**A/N: Pretty heavy, sort of disturbing. Please remember to review, and let me know your thoughts. Should I continue?**


	4. Self Conclusion

**Disclaimer: Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer**

**A/N: I have decided to keep going with the story. I like that people appreciate what it is to not have a fairy-tale story on here, and below I'm giving you a song I found that is like completely perfect for this story. Listen to get "in the mood". Thanks and enjoy the chapter!**

"**Not an Addict" by K's Choice. **

_Breathe it in and breathe it out,_

_And pass it on, _

_It's almost out,_

_We're so creative, _

_So much more,_

_We're high above but on the floor._

_It's not a habit, _

_It's cool, _

_I feel alive,_

_If you don't have it you're on the other side._

_The deeper you stick it in your vein, _

_The deeper the thoughts, _

_There's no more pain,_

_I'm in heaven; I'm a god, _

_I'm everywhere I feel so hot._

_It's not a habit, _

_It's cool_

_I feel alive,_

_If you don't have it you're on the other side,_

_I'm not an addict; baby that's a lie. _

_Slower now, I'm cold, alone, _

_I'm just a person on my own,_

_Nothing means a thing to me,_

_Oh nothing means a thing to me._

_It's not a habit, _

_It's cool,_

_I feel alive,_

_If you don't have it you're on the other side,_

_I'm not an addict; baby that's a lie._

_Free me, _

_Leave me,_

_Watch me as I'm going down,_

_And free me,_

_See me,_

_Look at me, _

_I'm falling and I'm falling._

_It is not a habit,_

_It is cool,_

_I feel alive,_

_I __feel__,_

_It is not a habit,_

_It is cool,_

_I feel alive._

_It's not a habit, _

_It's cool, _

_I feel alive, _

_if you don't have it you're on the other side_

_I'm not an addict; baby, that's a lie_

_I'm not an addict,_

_I'm not an addict,_

_I'm not an addict._

CHAPTER FOUR

SELF-CONCLUSION

"Leah?"

The voice was fading and I struggled to hear. Where was I?

"Leah?"

I winked open one sore eye and saw the person who was speaking very, very close to my face. It was Paul. He looked…concerned? No, he was just wondering why I was lying on his bed, wearing almost nothing. He would be pissed.

"What?" I snapped, getting my back up. I had no idea how I had come to be here, and it wasn't my fault that I was crashing his bed.

"Are you okay?"

"Where the hell am I?"

"You're at my house."

"I can see that," I scowled. "I meant how did I get here? And where are my clothes?"

"You don't remember?"

I frowned, trying to remember. I always hated when I couldn't remember where I'd been the previous night. It happened more often than I cared to know.

"I remember…going on duty."

"Oh."

Great answer. Paul was so damn expressive.

"Well, that clears that up, thanks for the explanation."

Paul didn't even snap back. What the hell? If there was one person who could be counted on to lose his temper, it was Paul.

"Leah, are you okay?"

"What the hell, Paul? Skip the Dr. Phil moment, just give me my clothes and I can get out of here."

"No."

"No? What the fuck do you mean, _no_?"

"I mean that you need help."

My face turned red. I wasn't embarrassed; I was angry. I remembered now. Paul has _heard_ everything. I couldn't even hide it anymore. Paul of all people! How fan-friggin'-tastic.

"I don't need anybody's help."

"Leah." Paul's dark face was pinched together in seriousness. He looked angry now. Good.

"I told you," I insisted, "I'm fine."

"Leah, I heard everything."

"You don't know what you heard! I was messed up last night, I don't know where that came from."

"Leah, I saw. You're a drug addict."

No, I most certainly was not. I liked drugs, sure, but an addict? No. No fucking drug was going to have any power over me. I could stop any time I wanted to. It's just that using was so much easier.

"I'm not an addict, Paul. It's just something I do."

"You can't even function without it. Don't you remember last night? Your withdrawal was so bad, I thought you'd died for a few minutes, Leah."

Ugh, I did remember now. Thanks a bunch, Paul. I'd been in so much pain- my veins had literally been on fire, screaming for a needle. I'd puked so much that I couldn't breathe, coughing and screaming for some heroin.

"Why do you even give a shit, Paul?"

My question seemed to stump him for a moment. His eyebrows pulled together and he looked away from my face.

"I don't know," Paul whispered.

"Well, thanks for letting me crash here. But now, I am leaving. Where are my clothes?"

"Where are you going to go, Leah?"

What? How dare he?

"Wherever the hell I want." I was visualizing it right now. I was going to go to Adam's and get some heroin. After last night, I needed it more than ever. Who knew when my symptoms would return?

Paul knew, of course. "I'm going to tell Sam."

I laughed manically. "Right, sure. He knows, Paul. He's the one who did this to me! Do you think I was just perfectly happy until one day, I decided to fuck my life up and do drugs? No. I wanted to die. Sam knows, he still knows. So he can go to hell, I'm through doing what he says. He ruined my life, so I'm going to fix it."

Paul looked surprised, and then shrugged. "Leah, I can't let you go to Adam's."

"I don't care what you'll 'let me do'," I screamed, jumping from the bed and running for the door, wearing only a cotton shirt.

Paul wasn't giving up so easily. He blocked the door easily, his massive shoulders doing the work for him. Sure, I was a freakishly strong werewolf, but then again, so was he.

"We both know where you're going, Leah."

"Fuck you!" I screamed, losing control. "I don't care if you know where I'm going!"

"Leah, I'm trying to help you."

"I don't need your help."

"Fine!" Paul yelled back at me, finally getting tired of keeping this up. "Whatever Leah, ruin your life, why do I care? God, you're so far gone, you can't even see yourself anymore. I hate Sam for doing this to you!"

I froze on my way out the front door, for some reason not looking him in the eye. "Don't hate Sam- it's too late. Nothing will change."

"I don't like seeing you hurting, Leah."

"Why?"

"Because it makes me hurt, too."

I wasn't sure what I was supposed to make of that. And I couldn't care anymore. I ran down Paul's street, bare legs flashing in the mid-morning sun. I couldn't get to Adam's fast enough.

The needle slid so easily into my skin. Almost like it was meant to be there. I watched the glint of silver fondly, pressing down on the top part of the needle until it wouldn't move anymore. I sat back and waited for it to start. My body sighed in gratitude- we had really needed this. Everything just slowed down and shrunk, like I was the center of everything. And everything just floated around me, not crushing me under its weight for once.

School the next day was awkward. At lunch, I couldn't look Paul in the eye. I knew that he would know. We sat under the same tree the pack always ate at, and he just stared. I started to think that maybe he was counting the puncture marks on my forearms. Or perhaps the slender, pink slices across my wrists. I pulled my sleeves over my hands, hoping that I wasn't getting paranoid.

But maybe Paul had seen all those things. The moment I hid my arms, he examined my eyes. I couldn't hide how bloodshot they were. It looked like I had used red eyeliner this morning.

I was so freaked out about Paul that I couldn't focus on anything else. And I couldn't eat, either; my clothes were starting to fall off. I was so paranoid about Paul that I didn't notice the way everyone was unnaturally quiet at lunch. I didn't even notice if they were there or not.

Going home was even worse. Seth stared at me, too. I was beginning to think that maybe Paul had told everybody. Mom was oblivious, of course. But Seth just looked at me, like he was…disappointed? No. Seth was probably just pissed I broke his videogame. He didn't care about me.

When I was sick of the staring, I went up to my bedroom. For the first time in a couple of years, I pulled my old photo album out of the closet. The pictures in there were mostly of Sam and me. I looked completely different; I could have been another person. I was actually smiling- I didn't remember the last time that I'd smiled. And Sam had been looking at me like he loved me.

The album ended abruptly, with half of its expectant pages blank. The last photo was haunting- it was just one of Sam, holding me close to his body. And the photo album was blank because that was the last time that Sam had ever loved me.

Involuntary tears were sliding down my face. I wiped at them in an irritated, compulsive way. Right then, in that moment, I decided I was done crying over Sam Uley. Fuck him.

I reached into my back pocket to pull out my lighter. The window of my bedroom was difficult to open, but I managed. I held each individual picture outside the window, letting the lighter lick its edges. When the paper caught, I watched it turn to ash. Sam's face browned and shriveled before disintegrating into ash.

I saved the final picture for last. When the lighter touched the picture of my face, it didn't turn the paper black. Instead, it erupted into bright orange flames. I laughed out loud, enjoying the pretty burning colors. How fucking fitting.

I watched myself burn.

I burned the old me. The weak Leah was dead. I was done wishing for him back.

I let the photograph slip out of my fingers.

I wasn't going to try anymore. Life could go on without me; I was finished trying to fix myself.

I watched myself fall to the earth. Leah crashed.

Leah got up from beside the windowsill, and walked out of her front door. She barely paused to glance at the small pile of ashes, save for to whisper one sentence in a flat, indifferent voice.

"Here lies Leah, dead of a broken heart."

Then she walked down the street, leaving Leah behind.

**A/N: Hmm…so let me know what you think of this twist. And yes, the last part is supposed to be in third person. Review, please. **


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